Total pages in book: 4
Estimated words: 3748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 19(@200wpm)___ 15(@250wpm)___ 12(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 3748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 19(@200wpm)___ 15(@250wpm)___ 12(@300wpm)
As I kiss him, he unlocks. His uncertainty seems to slip away. We move together in a brand-new rhythm. With him behind me and me in front of him. But I’m still setting the pace and it feels so fucking good.
I’m hot and sweaty and buzzed on him and you’d have to peel us apart to separate us. After several songs, I’m so turned on. So much that when we stumble out of the club, breathless and aroused, I keep up this pace. Backing up to the stone wall of the building on the street. Dragging him against me. I grab his face and I go for it. “I have a fantasy,” I say.
His eyes sparkle with desire. “Tell me,” he says, sounding on the edge of his seat.
As I begin to tell him the story of a new fantasy, I hope he’ll pick up this one too like we always do.
“Me tying you up,” I say, playing with the neckline of his shirt.
His dark eyes glimmer. “You fastening me to every corner of our bed.”
He’s reading my fucking mind.
“Me kissing you all over.”
“You driving me crazy,” he says.
But see, he drives me crazy too, and I want something else.
This.
I slide my hand down to the outline of his thick cock, and I squeeze hard. “Me getting you ready,” I rasp out.
This is a desire I haven’t spoken before. But I hope he’ll meet it. I hope he’ll want it. And I hope I haven’t terrified my guy.
This second, Maddox is hard to read. His dark eyes are full of question marks. He says nothing for several long seconds and it’s up to me to keep going. To spell it all the way out so there’s no confusion.
“Me, slicking you up for me,” I continue, making my intentions black and white.
Maddox is starkly quiet. His face stoic.
Shit. I hope he’s not freaked out. But Maddox isn’t scared. Ever. He is pragmatic though so he grabs my hand from his cock, removes it, then drops the fantasy play.
“You want me to fuck you while I’m tied up?”
I love his directness, but he’s a little bit wrong. I shake my head. “No. I want to tie you up. Drive you wild. Play with your cock. And then I want to fuck your cock.”
The corner of his lips twitch. A grin spreads slow and easy. Then all at once it takes over his face. He gets it now. He gets me. Maddox slides a hand down my chest, stopping at the waistband of my jeans. “You want to top me from the bottom,” he says.
I nod savagely. “Maddox, I fucking love your cock. I’m dying to know what it feels like to fuck it. I want to ride this big, beautiful dick into the night,” I say.
There. I’ve laid it out. I’ve shared my Everest fantasy. But there is one aspect of this that’s vitally important. “But I only want to if you do. It’s a fantasy, but I love our reality,” I add.
I want him to know that. Desperately. We don’t need to change a thing if he doesn’t want to.
He leans in, kisses my neck, works his way up to my ear, then nips on my lobe. And he whispers, “I had a feeling you’d want this eventually.”
“You’re my Mount Everest,” I say, with a small shrug.
“Then climb me. Because it’s there.”
3
MADDOX
We don’t do it that night. This is a big change for us. But I saw it coming. Zane is ravenous in bed. He loves my dick. Zane also loves when I take charge in other ways.
Our roles are incredibly fluid. We trade power back and forth in the ways that turn us both on. But the other thing that turns us on is talking, so that night when we go home, I tell him to sit on the edge of the bed and I drop down to my knees. Before I suck him off, I tease him with words, outlining how I imagine we’ll switch.
By the time I finally take him in my mouth, he’s a hot, panting mess and he comes in a mere minute. I drink him all down.
The next night, he ties me up and plays with my cock. He fondles me slowly and torturously, so luxuriously that I’m babbling and begging. But I hear every dirty promise of what he wants to do with my dick.
The next night it is on. When I come home from work and shut the door, I drink in our home.
He’s already set the mood.
The lights are low. Seductive music plays throughout the rooms. I’m sure the bed is ready too. My man knows what he’s doing. Especially when he calls out to me from the living room. My wingtips click as I walk across the hardwood and enter the room. I find him sitting casually on the couch, wearing tight slacks and a Bespoke shirt. He holds a tumbler of amber liquid, looking like a dark, dirty sex king. He stares at me and looks me up and down. Licks his lips. Takes a drink. Sets down the glass on the table. “Did you bring me a gift?”